When All Is Said And Done
by umbrashadow
Summary: Deidara thinks he wants freedom. Itachi knows he wants Deidara. Sasuke isn't sure just what he wants. And Shikamaru? Well, Shika just thinks it's all way too troublesome. Sidefic/prequel to "Mixed Communication", ItaDei, others, yaoi, AU, lang
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Deidara thinks he wants freedom. Itachi knows he wants Deidara. Sasuke isn't sure just what he wants. And Shikamaru? Well, Shika just thinks it's all way too troublesome. **

**Sidefic/prequel to "Mixed Communication", ItaxDei, other pairings, yaoi, boyxboy, angst, crossdressing, AU**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Naruto character.**

**Warnings: Relatively tame starting out, eventually I'll get into more dangerous territories :)**

**A/N: So this is the sidefic I've been musing about for Mixed Communication. Some of the basic stuff is already out there, but hopefully it will be entertaining anyway :) MC is still my main focus, but we'll see how this goes. It's been running around in my head long enough I wanted to actually get it down.**

**Oh yeah, and reviews make mouths happy ^_^**

**...**

"You know, Itachi, if it was anyone else but you I'd call them a stalker."

Itachi didn't react to the goading of the man sitting next to him in the car. Hoshigaki Kisame was annoying and rude. He was too tall and was not always picky about his personal hygiene. He flaunted tattoos of deadly sea life and had a habit of eating crab rangoons at the oddest of occasions, like at the present time when they were sitting across the street from the path between the art department at T University and the school's cafeteria.

For all his faults, however, Hoshigaki-san was an excellent bodyguard. And extremely loyal. And, Itachi concluded internally, probably technically correct in his assessment of the situation. He checked the clock impatiently. They were running late.

Then he saw the group of students coming across the lawn, laughing and playing around. Some of them had crazy-colored hair and outfits; he discarded those immediately, seeking out the one person he was there to see.

A shaft of sunlight caught the blond as he pushed his hair back from his face. He was smiling at something one of his friends had said, though in Itachi's judgment the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. A flash of jealousy pierced the raven when one of the taller boys next to him patted the blond on his back. Deidara laughingly shrugged him off and slipped away to enjoy a joke with a couple of the female students, then turned to wave at a redhead crossing in the other direction.

"If you like him that much, I don't see why you don't just throw him down and fuck him."

This was followed by the messy sounds of crunching wonton. Itachi resisted the urge to glare at the other man. He'd thought of that. It wasn't really that far-fetched. Dei would probably even do it willingly, if he wasn't too pissed at him – a part of his ego was still cursing him for the night he'd thrown a drunk blond out of his room rather than give into the temptation. But he wasn't after just a quick fuck, or even a friend-with-benefits type of situation. What he wanted was a much deeper commitment, and Deidara had made it perfectly clear he wasn't looking for that. Itachi preferred to interpret it as that the blond wasn't ready for it yet, or wasn't aware that he was ready for it. He should know, they'd been living together for the better part of the last six years, even if it was under the guise of family.

"Whatever else it is, you guys sure do have one fucked up relationship."

This was also probably true; much as he was loathe to admit it. He preferred to think of it as an awkward phase in their developing relationship, a time when Deidara was learning to stretch his wings. They'd lived alone together for the past three years, ever since his parents had died and Itachi had had to manage taking over the family business while still managing to finish high school. On the surface, the nature of his relationship with the blond hadn't changed much after his parent's died. Underneath, the tension could sometimes be cut with a knife. They'd both been way too busy most of the previous year to do anything about it, but that had changed after Dei's entrance exam results were posted.

Dei had gone out to celebrate without telling him. It wasn't that he'd been in any danger, or that Itachi hadn't been able to find him in a heartbeat. No, it had been the challenging look in the blond's eyes when he marched down the stairs into the club to retrieve him. A look that dared him to do something. He'd wanted to. And after looking at the way the other boys were watching his blond he'd almost given in and claimed Dei as his own right then and there, just so none of them would ever think about touching him. But the rational part of his brain knew that if he did that, it would be a big mistake. Instead, he had just taken the blond home and put him to bed. His own bed.

He'd never fully understood the blond's self-destructive tendencies, but he was damned if he was going to be one of the tools Deidara used to cause himself more pain.

Deidara had been quiet the next morning, and neither of them mentioned what had gone on the night before. But things started to go downhill after that. They'd always occasionally snapped at each other, but for a while they'd been pretty close friends – well, as close as they could be while walking around the elephant in the room. It was if that night had built some sort of wall between him, a wall that Itachi couldn't break through no matter how hard he tried because Deidara acted perfectly fine with it being there. Then there were the moments when he looked at Itachi with such sadness, though the look was covered as soon as he noticed the raven looking back.

Finally, there was the night when the blond came home drunk and crawled into his bed, waking him up. His defenses had been down at first, but once he realized what was going on he was furious. Wrestling the blond outside his door was like carrying an oiled cat. Deidara had yelled at him for a bit, then stalked into his room and locked the door. Itachi had gotten over his anger and gone to talk to him through the door, getting nothing out of it except a declaration that the blond was "done" with everything. He'd thought it was just another outburst until he went to wake the other up in the morning and found his room empty.

They hadn't spoken sense. He'd been "informed" that he needed to give the blond space. So now, they lived in this strange non-relationship. He watched the blond go to lunch and read the intelligence reports regarding his movements and his new friends. He went home and found fresh flowers on the altar for Mikoto and Fugaku. He'd even found the blond asleep in their reading area one night, and spent an hour watching the moonlight travel across his face before tucking a quilt around him and going to bed. That hadn't happened again.

He'd channeled all his frustration into work, earning a fearsome reputation. None of it satisfied though. And now, there was another complication about to be added to his life. He heard his phone ring and picked it up, glancing at the clock in irritation. He could just guess exactly who it was.

"Moshi moshi" he said.

The man on the other end of the line didn't waste time on formalities. "I assume you have a good reason why you're oogling my son's ass instead of on your way to pick up your brother?"

"Your son?" Itachi replied, an edge of threat in his voice. He disliked anyone else claiming Deidara, and his great-uncle knew it.

"Technically." Madara replied. This was true, in the eyes of the government Deidara was listed on the family registry as Madara's adopted son. Not that they had much more of a relationship other than what was on paper, unless Madara was deciding to be a pain in his ass. Sometimes he cursed the technology that allowed the old man to know exactly where he was at all times, and exactly where Deidara was as well. Never mind that he'd used the exact same technology to find the blond on more than one occasion.

"Hn." He motioned for Kisame to start the car. "Understood."

The call was cut from the other side and Itachi flipped his phone shut, watching out the window as they pulled into the street and headed for the train station. He hoped traffic wasn't bad.

. . .

A pair of blue-grey eyes watched as the black car pulled away from the curb and into traffic. Internally Deidara griped that Itachi could at least be a little more subtle about his stalking – not that it would help. He'd always had this uncanny ability to sense when the raven was watching him. It drove him nuts most of the time. Of course, most things about Itachi did that, at least these days. He preferred not thinking about the reasons for that too deeply.

He felt irrationally upset because the raven's car had left so quickly; normally Itachi spent at least thirty minutes watching as they grabbed lunch and ate it on the green. He checked the date and realized it was the day that Sasuke was supposed to arrive. The thought of another person in their house annoyed him, even though he wasn't really living there anymore. He didn't know the younger Uchiha very well, but he'd always struck him as a royal prick. Now, that prick would be living in with Itachi. At least he was taking the downstairs guestroom and not Deidara's old room. That was still kept in its previous condition, even down to the unmade bed. It amused him to think that the fastidious Itachi Uchiha had a room in his house with an unmade bed.

He sighed. He didn't feel hungry anymore.

He made excuses to his friends, ignoring the worry in Konan's eyes, and made his way back to the studios. The best way to channel negative energy was through art, and he had a sculpture project to work on anyhow.

. . .

Sasuke Uchiha was nervous. Not that he would admit it, of course. Unfortunately, his best friend was sitting beside him, and Shikamaru could read him like a book. He didn't say anything though, just gazed up at the sky and watched clouds. For this, Sasuke was inordinately grateful.

He hadn't seen his brother since the funeral. He had no idea if Itachi was still the same, or how he'd changed. He had no idea what living with Itachi would be like. He was relieved to know that Deidara wasn't living in the house anymore – he had never understood why he'd gained an older cousin at age ten, or why the new cousin got to live with his family while he was stuck living with his grandparents.

He was also bothered by the fact that he was having to transfer into a new school mid-trimester. At least Shika was transferring with him. It was a weird coincidence that the brunet's father was transferred at the same time that he was told he had to move to Tokyo, but he wasn't complaining.

Shikamaru had been his friend ever since they were little. On the surface, they didn't have too much in common – Sasuke spent most of his time studying or practicing traditional crafts, while Shika spent most of his time watching the clouds – but they were both always neck and neck when scores were posted. Plus, when he went over to Shikamaru's house, he could actually play video games, and the brunet never actually turned him down when he suggested they go do something a little more active. All-in-all, it was a good partnership.

He looked down at his watch. They hadn't had to wait too long. Maybe traffic was just really bad. He thought about calling Itachi, but hesitated, reasoning that there was no way he'd forgotten (Itachi was perfect, right?) and that he'd be there soon.

When the black car pulled up to the curb and Itachi got out, he was mildly relieved.

"Forgive me, Sasuke. I did not mean to keep you waiting."

"It's nothing. I'm glad to see you."

Sasuke looked at Shikamaru suspiciously when his parents pulled up right behind Itachi's black car. The brunet looked at him blandly and said, "See you at school tomorrow?"

The younger raven nodded, and then looked at the tall man exiting his brother's car.

"Hoshigaki-san, can you please get his bags?"

The tall man nodded at them, saying "Uchiha-sama, Uchiha-san," before picking up Sasuke's bags and putting them in the trunk.

Sasuke looked at Itachi. He looked older. He didn't know what he had expected. Itachi looked distracted; he didn't give him the faint smile he was used to, or poke his forehead. Sasuke figured it was because they were out in public. He also knew that Itachi was kept busy with the business; his grandmother had chided him not to interfere with the things Itachi had to do.

He swallowed away the brief rush of homesickness that her memory invoked and followed Itachi to the car, settling down in the back seat.

"Is there anything special you would like for dinner, otouto?" Itachi asked.

"Anything is fine."

Sasuke glanced into the rearview mirror, meeting the strange eyes of the man driving the car. He didn't know why, but he felt a bit unnerved by the slightly sardonic stare. Maybe he was imagining things.

"Hn," his brother replied.

They were silent the rest of the way to the house. Not that Sasuke normally minded silence – it was one of the advantages of having Shika was a best friend. But he had to say – even if just to himself – that he'd hoped for just a little more interaction with his brother after three years. Maybe Itachi was just having an odd day, or maybe things would be different when they were alone. Hopefully.

He stared out the window at the unfamiliar city streets and wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing so far from home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: Deidara thinks he wants freedom. Itachi knows he wants Deidara. Sasuke isn't sure just what he wants. And Shikamaru? Well, Shika just thinks it's all way too troublesome.**

**Sidefic/prequel to "Mixed Communication", ItaxDei, other pairings, yaoi, boyxboy, angst, crossdressing, AU**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any Naruto character.**

**Warnings: Some talk about abuse/minors/child trafficing here, nothing explicit. Crossdressing references - that'll be an ongoing thing, btw :P**

**A/N: So this is the sidefic I've been musing about for Mixed Communication. Some of the basic stuff is already out there, but hopefully it will be entertaining anyway :) MC is still my main focus, but we'll see how this goes. It's been running around in my head long enough I wanted to actually get it down.**

**Oh yeah, and reviews make mouths happy ^_^**

**...**

Sasuke wandered around his new house. Itachi had given him a short tour after they arrived before leaving to go back to work. Just before he left, he'd poked Sasuke in the middle of his forehead and apologized for leaving so soon after his little brother arrived. Sasuke would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, but he was sure he'd have more time with him later. Besides, he had a house to explore.

It was weird, almost everything was western style. The bathrooms were close to what he was used to, and there was of course an entryway, but instead of tatami mats the floors were tiled downstairs and carpeted upstairs. At least there was a garden.

His room was downstairs, just off the living room. There was a huge TV across from his doorway, but he didn't see any video game consoles. He wondered if Itachi would let him get one. He had a bed. Someone had decorated it with a dark blue comforter, and the raven wondered if it was Itachi. There were Uchiha fans in the middle of his pillow cases, which made him feel good. He had a nice desk, and there was a window that looked out on the narrow strip of greenery behind the house.

The living room was decorated in black and some kind of blond wood on top of cream-colored tiles. A door down the wall from the TV opened into a small Japanese garden. Tall windows lined the back wall, revealing the plants someone had cultivated and a thin rock-lined streambed that extended from the small pond in the garden. There was only a meter between the glass and the fence that separated their house from the next yard, but it was still a nice touch.

On the other side of the TV there was a door leading into the downstairs toilet, then the entryway leading to the front door and the garage. Across from the entryway were the stairs, and then towards the front of the house was the dining room. The kitchen was tucked away between the stairs and the dining room. Sasuke leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the front dining room, glancing out the windows to the front yard and street beyond. Everything was so different. It was smaller than his grandparent's house; especially the garden. It was a lot smaller than the main house. But all the little workmanship details screamed quality, and Shika had mentioned it was in an expensive part of town.

He went around and climbed the stairs. The door to the left, he knew, was his brother's bedroom. The door in front of him went into Deidara's bedroom. Itachi had asked him not to go in there. He didn't understand why Itachi cared. He opened the door to take up a peek. The room was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere. He wondered if Deidara had a girlfriend or something, because there were skirts and blouses among those piled up on the floor.

He shut the door and turned around, checking out the upstairs bathroom. It wasn't bad. He thought about wasting time with a bath right then, but decided to wait a bit. Continuing on towards the front of the house, he saw a sitting area with bookshelves against the far wall beside the front windows. On the left side there was a small shrine with pictures of his mother and father. There was a white chrysthanthemum in a bowl that looked like it was beginning to wilt. The shrine was relatively simple. He had visited the older one in the main house every week, his grandmother insisted. It wasn't the same, but he was glad Itachi honored their parents even from so far away. He lit a stick of incense and paid his respects before going back downstairs to grab some clothes. Time for that bath. He felt better, it was like his mother and father were watching over him. Itachi had promised to take him out to dinner that night as well. He couldn't deny that the chance to see what Tokyo was like made him a little excited. He wondered where they would go.

. . .

Deidara tested the temperature of the water before getting under the spray of water from the showerhead. Sighing, he dipped his head, letting the water run through his long blond hair and resting his forehead against the tile wall. He'd been antsy all day. He'd forgotten to cancel his normal delivery of flowers, so he had a vase of white chrysthanthemums on his kitchen counter that he didn't know what to do with. He'd also have to deal with Konan at some point; she was uncomfortably perceptive. But she wouldn't pry. He was thankful for that.

He turned to pour shampoo in his hands, lathering it up before gathering his hair onto the top of his scalp. He scrubbed at it hard, trying to remember when he'd first met her. Most of his earliest memories were a blur. He remembered winding up in that dark damp room with the other three kids. It was barely big enough to be called a closet. They had some rags to sleep on, but that was about it.

He'd been jealous of the other three because they got to go outside and he didn't. Konan would bring him treasures when she came back. The couple that owned them took the other three to the garbage dump outside of town, making them scrounge around for anything valuable. He didn't know why he couldn't go outside and play with the others.

One time Nagato had cut his arm on some glass, and had to stay inside with Deidara. At first they'd griped at each other. Nagato had complained that Deidara always got the best food while they just had to eat scraps. They didn't fight though. The man had uttered dire threats about either one of them hurting the other, though the worst of the glare had been sent to Nagato. Konan had been able to soothe their egos when she came back in the afternoon, making something pretty out of the bits of paper she found amongst the garbage.

She always taught Deidara how to do it too, though at first he was too young and had trouble getting the concepts down. While they were gone during the day, he practiced unfolding and refolding paper in the light that slipped in through the crack under the door. He wondered where she learned to do it. She didn't talk about her past much; he just knew she'd been together with the other two boys for while. She was a couple years older than him, maybe a bit more. He always appreciated how she acted as a buffer zone between him and the other two.

She was the first to be taken away during the night, when he was probably about ten or so. The quality of the food had been going downhill, and they'd had to listen to the couple fighting on more than one occasion. Dei had heard his name mentioned in those fights, though he didn't understand why.

When Konan came back, she was clutching a colored magazine to her chest. Deidara hadn't noticed her empty eyes at first; he was just excited at the prospect of so much new paper. It was Yahiko who noticed, raising such a racket the man pulled him out of their room and beat him senseless. Nagato had hugged her close, and Dei had held her hand, not sure what had happened to make everyone so upset. They had meat for dinner the next night.

After that, Konan stayed with him during the day. Nagato was taken next. He came back quieter than usual, and was sick the next few days. The next time they tried to take him, Yahiko insisted they take him instead. He didn't come back. The fight that night was horrible. He could hear the sounds of the man beating the woman even worse than usual. When they'd come for him the next night, Konan had gone wild, scratching and begging and trying to hold onto him. The man just backhanded her into the wall. That had been the last he'd seen of her for years.

After that he'd learned pretty quickly why they'd kept him safe in that room and away from the sun, with enough food that he didn't look utterly emaciated. The appeal of that look held up pretty well over the next couple years. At least his new owner gave him a room with a bed. Sometimes he even got magazines. He got a picture book once, though he had to leave it behind when he was traded to someone new after he started looking too old.

Then the Uchihas came into his life. Deidra rinsed his hair, lowering a hand to rub fingertips against the edge of the burn scar that curled around the outside of his upper right leg. His life had changed completely, just like a fairy tale. A part of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But one of the best things that had come out of it was because Mikoto had asked him to talk about what had gone on before. He didn't want to tell her everything (she was too nice and he didn't want to make her cry), but he told her about Konan and the boys because they had been his friends.

He didn't think anything of it until he'd received a letter a few years later written in a neat feminine hand, with the base for an origami lily inside. Itachi had been extra-nice to him that day, once Dei had mentioned who the letter was from. He hadn't ever told Itachi his story. He wasn't surprised the raven knew, though.

Yahiko hadn't made it; as far as anyone knew he'd disappeared that night that he didn't come back. But Konan and Nagato had been found, and taken care of while they got better. They met up once in a while, though things were awkward at first and Itachi was a constant presence. He never acted jealous of them though. Deidara appreciated that.

Now they were all going to the same university; Konan and Deidara taking courses in plastic arts and Nagato in peace studies. He appreciated having their friendship to fall back on when things had gone south with the raven. He and Nagato still didn't talk much, but Nagato didn't really talk to anyone besides Konan if he could help it. Konan was different. She listened. He just didn't always like what she had to say.

The blond made a face and finished washing his body, toweling himself off as he left the tiny bathroom and went into his apartment. He missed the bathroom at the house. He'd have to figure out the new schedule so that he could sneak in and use it, not to mention refresh the flowers for Mikoto and Fugaku. He owed them that at least, even if their sons were a pain in the ass.

He checked his bank book, frowning. He hated taking money from Madara, but the old man insisted. He'd never been anything but unfailingly polite to the blond, hadn't ever even hinted at the things Deidara had assumed he'd bought him for that night. And Dei was pretty sure it was his influence that had saved Konan and Nagato. But he'd always known the elder Uchiha had his fingers in some pretty nasty pies, and hoped one day to be untangled from all of that, though it felt like a pretty far-off dream. Especially when his last name declared to all the world that he belonged to the Uchihas, and all the Uchihas – including Madara – seemed to hold this unspoken belief that he belonged to Itachi. Not that Itachi had ever acted on it. Much. Yet.

Sometimes, when he thought about it all, it was like his throat closed up and there wasn't enough air in the world to breathe – at least, not his world.

. . .

The sound of someone banging on his door woke Deidara from a very fitful sleep. He growled, checking his phone and noticing four missed calls, before rolling out of bed and shuffling over to the door. He cracked it open and scowled at the green-haired man on the other side. "What do you want?"

Shiro gave him a sly smile. "I'm here to pick you up."

Deidara raised an eyebrow.

"We're going clubbing."

The blond tried to slam the door in the other man's face, but he was stopped easily.

"It's an order. Kuro and the others are probably already on their way, and you know how much Hidan hates waiting."

Deidara relented, turning around and shuffling through the kitchen to the main room. "The freak."

Shiro chuckled, following. He plopped down on the bed and looked at Deidara expectantly. The blond glared back, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Shiro and Kuro were twins who entered the art department the same time he did. Though they were identical, it was always easy to tell them apart because Shiro dressed exclusively in white and Kuro always dressed in black. He'd forgotten their first names, the professors just used their family name. The "Shiro" and "Kuro" nicknames had been given on the first day of class by some of their sempais, and the names stuck. There were a lot of weird people in the art department, but those two were some of the strangest.

"What?" he asked the green-haired man, who was still looking at him with eyes that were far too happy.

"Clothes, man. I'm not taking you out dressed like that."

Deidara groused and rifled through his clothes, looking for something suitable. No way in hell he was going to go all out. He just picked a simple ripped pair of tight jeans and a skintight light blue t-shirt, turning to look at Shiro expectantly. The other man didn't act like he was going anywhere. Deidara shuddered to think what would happen if Itachi were to ever walk in on a scene like this. He considered just changing right there. It wasn't like he had much personal modesty. Something made him duck into the bathroom to change instead. He put his hair up and looked himself over critically. It wasn't great, but it would do.

. . .

The club was already packed by the time they got there. Shiro dragged him over to their usual table and he squeezed in between Konan and Sasori, downing the shot that was placed in front of him. Maybe it wasn't a bad idea to get out. He looked around. There certainly was some fine eye candy on display, even if most of the guys were probably straight. It wasn't like he would be looking for someone to take him home, anyhow.

"Now that girl is smoking hot."

Deidara twisted around, trying to get a glimpse of whoever Hidan had his eye on. He saw a girl on the dance floor with long brown hair twisting her body around like there was no tomorrow. She was dressed in a black and purple loligoth style. There were boys around her but she kept playing them off against each other, teasingly slipping away as they tried to grab a bit of flesh. Her top was demure, with a high button-up choker collar, but the skirt was short enough to show off some legs that even Deidara had to admit weren't bad.

"Who, Hinata?" asked Konan.

"Is that her name?"

"Yeah, she's kinda a mystery chick, just started coming a couple months ago. Won't tell anyone her family name, won't go home with anyone, though I've heard a few tales about the bathroom. Don't know if they're true or not though."

Hidan chuckled. "I could deal with the bathroom."

"Dei's prettier."

The blond turned to glare at Sasori, but the redhead just ignored him.

"Hah yeah. Hey, I know," Shiro said, ignoring the glare that was redirected his way. "Next time why don't you put on one of those outfits you had in high school? I've seen the pictures in your room. No one would have a clue."

"You do make a convincing girl," Kuro said, speaking up finally.

"Just warn me if you do," Hidan said. "I don't want to be trapped by a guy, even if you are pretty."

Deidara scowled at everyone and said, "I hate you. All of you."

Konan just chuckled and pushed at his shoulder. "Why don't you guys go and dance. I'll hold down the fort."

The blond grumbled, but followed Sasori out of the booth and let the others lead him to the dance floor. He had to admit, there was something great about losing your mind to the beat of the music and heat of the bodies pressed around. He glanced up and saw Konan's small smile and the hand Nagato placed on her shoulder. He smiled to himself. At least some things were right with the world. And tomorrow would be another day.


End file.
